Love Never Dies
by racheltastic
Summary: One-shots of each "main" song in the play.
1. Till I Hear You Sing

**disclaimer: i do not own the characters/music/lyrics to love never dies.**

**a/n: i have never actually seen love never dies, okay. i've only seen snippets that people have posted online. this is just – after listening to a lot of the music – how i've envisioned the scenes to play out in my mind.**

Erik stood stiffly at his desk, his mask resting next to him, his hands balled into small, tight fists. He turned around swiftly, his cape billowing as he did, and stalked towards his piano. His long, lithe fingers stroked the keys with a look of distaste and immeasurable longing. His hands turned to fist and he began to smash the keys with his fists, fury rising up from deep, deep within him.

"Ten long years, living a mere façade of life!" He punctuated the end of his words with another slam on the piano, furiously unaware of the damage he was conflicting to the keys and the strings, "Ten long years, _wasting _my time on smoke and noise!"

He moved through his office like a madman, shoving things off of shelves and hurling whatever he could get his hands on across the room, "In my mind, I hear melodies, pure and unearthly, but I find I can't give them a voice…" Erik stopped at a curtain that hid the mannequin he'd created years after he'd left Christine, years after he'd finally reached the point that he could think of her. Years after her wedding, years after his flight from the Opera Populaire.

"Without you."

He pulled open the curtains, staring at the lifelike figure of the woman he loved.

The woman he wanted, so desperately to appear again. "My Christine, my Christine…"

He reached forward to touch her face, but withdrew, ashamed of himself, of his horrible face, "Lost and gone, lost and gone."

The constriction in his chest was staring, the pain welling up from deep within. Erik forced himself to take deep breaths, to focus, to get his mind off of her – off of Christine. It was hopeless, and he knew it. There was nothing that could stop him from thinking about her. Erik ran his fingers along the disfigured side of his face as he stared at her, trying to convince himself that he was not worthy of her. She would never look upon his face again, and it was for the better. Wasn't it?

"_The day starts, the day ends, time crawls by…_" Erik reached out and gently caressed the side of her face, his hand trembling, "_Night steals in, pacing the floor. The moments creep, yet I can't bear to sleep._" He took a tentative step backwards, still staring at the lifeless figurine of Christine, the woman he loved, the woman he craved more than he had ever craved anything. He wanted her more than he wanted beauty, he wanted her more than he wanted beautiful music, he wanted her more than he wanted the breath in his lungs and the project in his yard. Christine was his muse.

"_Till I hear you sing, once more._"

He had given up hope, of her finding him on her own. She didn't even want to see him, and Erik knew it. She was busy with her family. Her beautiful son and her drunken husband. Oh, what had Raoul become? When Erik let them go, he had expected great things to come from them – that mad had tried to hard to save her, and this was what it was for? A life of gambling and drinking away their fortune? "_And weeks pass, and months pass, seasons fly._" Erik stalked along his office, circling the mannequin, never taking his eyes off the pedestal in which he sat, her eyes when he passed her face, "_Still you don't walk through the door. And in a haze, I count the silent days, till I hear you sing once more."_

Was there any way he could get her here? Get Raoul, their child, anything – he just needed to hear her, needed to see her one last time. He would be content after just one more glance, one more song. How he _ached _to hear her voice, ached to see her lively face, not the face of this woman.

"_And sometimes, at nighttime, I dream that you are here, but wake holding nothing but the empty air…_" Every shadow, every sound played tricks on his mind, reminding him of the things he'd lost. Every shadow was Christine, ever sound was her voice, her whispering, her singing, her crying, and her longing. Always Christine. Even his mind, when asleep, worked against him. He would see her, dance with her, hold her. She was laughing, singing, joyful, oh, always so happy. And then he would wake up in an empty bed, in an empty room. Her voice would drift from his mind, and he couldn't even remember it.

He couldn't remember his muse's voice.

"_And years come, and years go, time runs dry, still I ache down to the core!_" He whirled around, grasping at his face, falling to his knees in front of Christine, "_My broken soul can't be alive and whole, till I hear you sing once more!_" Erik covered his face, desperately hoping, praying, begging for her to come alive, for her to be there. He wanted to hear her, _needed_ to hear her, just one more time, please. Erik began to rock slowly on his heels, and he could feel the liquid begin to seep from his eyes, "_And music, your music, it teases at my ears… I turn and fades away, and __**you're not here**_!"

A desperate cry escaped from his throat as he sang, and he stood up swiftly, placing both of his hands on mannequin's face, "_Let hope pass, let dreams pass, let them die! Without you, what are they for? I'll always feel no more than halfway real, till I hear you sing…_" He let out another distressed cry from the very center of his chest, the pain of not having her overwhelming, like a wave crashing over his very being.

"_Once more!_"


	2. Beneath a Moonless Sky

She sensed him as soon as he entered the room, but she didn't react. Christine continued to fold a dress, her hands moving slow, as if stalling. His presence added to the room, and a shiver ran up her spine as she thought of him, of everything that they had gone through.

Finally, after another few agonizingly long moments, she turned to gaze at the figure that stood in the corner of a room, silent as a shadow, "I should have known that you'd be here." Her voice was quiet, and the man that stood across from her looked away, breaking their gaze. The tension in the room felt suddenly overwhelming, and she let out a quiet sigh, turning back to face her dresser, hands grasping the edge.

"I should have known it all along."

Erik cautiously took a step forward, moving to stand a few feet behind her. She'd always had the ability to tell when he was around, and it was both terribly inconvenient and so useful at the same time. Christine and Erik always had a special connection, Erik thought, but she'd always been so afraid to embrace it, afraid to embrace her true nature. He took another step, watching her watching his reflection in the mirror.

"This whole arrangement bears your stamp," Christine stared at him, her eyes now narrowing accusingly, "you're in each measure of that song." Something close to anger was crawling up her chest, and Erik could see it in her eyes, see it in the way her body stiffened when he approached.

He reached out, as if to touch her, to comfort him, but she whirled around suddenly, forcing him to withdraw quickly, "How dare you and claim me now? How dare you come invade my life?"

"Oh Christine, my Christine," Erik shook his head, his voice desperate for her to understand, "in that time that the world thought me dead! My Christine, on that night just before you were wed. Ah Christine, you came and found where I hid," he approached her slowly, and she didn't react, this time allowing him to graze her cheek with his knuckles, "Don't deny that you did, that long night ago."

She turned her head away, his hand now caressing the air, "That night."

For so long, Christine had tried to deny that night. She had tried to convince herself that Gustave was not Erik's but Raoul's, tried to deny her own infidelity. Oh, how she loved Raoul, but the feelings she felt towards Erik were so overwhelming, so intense, so powerful. There were things that Raoul could never understand, that only Erik, only this phantom could. A part of him had loved him, even as he kidnapped her, tricked her, even as he seduced her with his music. It didn't make sense, really, but Christine just knew that she was so inexplicably drawn to him that it hurt her to be away. Those ten years had been some of the longest of her life, not a single one going by without thinking of him. Not even one.

"_Once there was a night, beneath a moonless sky…_" His voice in itself was seductive, pulling at the strings in her heart, drawing her forward. Christine pulled away from him again, turning her body towards the dresser, her eyes closed, trying desperately to block it out, "_Too dark to see a thing, too dark to even try._"

"_I stood to your side, to tell you I must go,_" she remembered that night all too well, although she tried to fight it. She had snuck away that night, away from Raoul, to see him one last time. She felt as if she owed it to him, because she couldn't just leave him. After all that had happened, she couldn't just leave him. The night had been black, and it had taken her hours to finally find him, "_I couldn't see your face, but sensed you even so._"

The man stood behind her, watching her carefully, his own mind racing with the thoughts of that night.

"_And I touched you…_" Christine's eyes opened, and she stared at him, turning to look at him again, her face suddenly intense. She felt almost as if she were back there, touching his unmasked face in the dark, her fingers tracing his face. He was beautiful, even with his deformity. She remembered the feeling of him wincing away, as if someone touching his face was too much for him to bear.

"_And I felt you,_" When he touched her face this time, she didn't pull away, and the feeling was so familiar that it was overwhelming. He could remember the feel of her frame against his, the way she was so gentle, so careful.

"_And I heard those ravishing refrains._"

"_The music of your pulse_," a tentative smile tugged to her lips, and her fingers overlapped his from where they touched her face. His fingers were cold as ice, but the touch burned her skin.

"_The singing in your veins_," the feel of her hand – oh, it was something he had been dreaming of for so long. He had been praying, begging, dreaming of this moment; speaking to her, touching her face. Being with her was like a drug, intoxicating, filling him with something he could barely remember. It was a strange feeling, a love that he hadn't been used to since she left.

"_And I held you_."

"_And I touched you!_"

"_And embraced you…_"

"_And I felt you!_"

"_And with every breath and every sigh,_" Their voices melded together so perfectly, and it seemed almost fate for them to have been together. But fate could be cruel thing, and had different plans for them, it seemed.

Her eyes drifted shut as she felt his hand against her face, "_I felt no longer scared,_" At that time, it was true. That night had been so oddly perfect, so beautiful, so unexpected. Christine wasn't supposed to love him; she was supposed to fear him, to hate him even. To pity him. And yet, that night, all of that held melted away to love, because it was true – she did love him, although it was different from the love she felt for Raoul. What she had with Erik was raw, completely unlike anything she'd ever known before.

"_I felt no longer shy_." It had all gone against Erik's instinct. Loving did not come naturally, holding someone didn't come easily. His body had fought against him, screaming for him to run, to leave. And as her fingers had traced his face, he wanted to melt away, to disappear. But it had all gone away, turned to something passionate and accepting. As soon as he wrapped his arms around her, everything felt natural and right.

"_At least our feelings bared, beneath a moonless sky._"

Christine's eyes opened for a moment, soft and gentle, as she looked at him. A ghost of a smile came to her lips as she continued, "_And blind in the dark, as soul gazed into soul, I looked into your heart and saw you pure and whole_."

At this, Erik couldn't help but jerk back as if wounded, surprised by her words. He could never be pure, never be whole. He was a monster, and her words burned him in the strangest way. They hurt, and yet it was the best pain he'd ever felt. It didn't make sense, and his brain couldn't comprehend it, "_Cloaked under the night, with nothing to suppress, a woman and no man…_" He turned slowly, his back now to Christine, "_no more and yet no less_."

"_And I kissed you!_"

"_And caressed you…_"

"_And the world around us fell away. We said things in the dark, we never dared to say._" Christine moved around him so she was facing him again, and she grabbed for his hands, holding them in hers. She brought them to her chest, her eyes refusing to break from his. Everything about this was so wrong; they shouldn't be seeing each other. She'd promised Raoul never to search for him, never to speak to him, to erase him from her mind. It was impossible – he was haunting her, even now. Her dreams were filled with his voice, his beautiful voice. Just like her childhood when she had lived at the opera house, and he had haunted her dreams there.

"_And I caught you!_" Erik tightened his grip in hers as they stood, too close together than they should have been, singing as if they were not in the situation that they were. As if Christine did not have a husband and a son, as if she did not love them.

"_And I kissed you…_

"_And I took you!_"

"_And caressed you…_"

"_With a need too urgent to deny. And nothing mattered then, except for you and I. Again, and then again, beneath a moonless sky._" Christine wasn't supposed to be doing this, and yet no guilt pooled in her stomach. She didn't feel guilty for seeing him – it felt like seeing an old friend after too long. But Erik was more than an old friend. He was a mentor, a friend, a lover. He was something that words couldn't explain. He had been Christine's very world at one point.

Suddenly, Erik pulled away, his face mournful, "_And when it was done, before the sun could rise, ashamed of what I was, afraid to see your eyes,_" the regret and pain was evident in the way he now stood, rigid and awkward, "_I stood while you slept, and whispered a goodbye, and slipped into the dark… beneath a moonless sky_."

He could remember the pain he felt as he left, the empty feeling already beginning to claw at his stomach. She had been so peaceful as she slept, so beautiful. It had still been black outside, and leaving had been the hardest thing he'd ever done. His fear, however, had forced him to do it – what if she woke up to his face? That night had been black, and she had been unable to see him; she could never look on his face with love.

"_And I loved you! Yes, I loved you! I'd have followed anywhere you led!_" Christine cried accusingly, taking a step back, as if she had just realized the words she was saying, "_I woke to swear my love, and found you gone instead._" She pressed her hand to her face for a moment, tears threatening to spill over. Oh, that had been the hardest day of her life. She had woken up, prepared to follow Erik, prepared to travel the world, she would have done anything he had asked.

But when she woke up, he was gone, leaving nothing for her.

"_And I loved you!_"

"_Oh I loved you…_"

"_And I left you!_"

"_How I loved you…_"

"_And I had to, both of us knew why!_" Erik had never regretted anything more than he did for leaving. And yet he knew, in that moment, that he was not good enough for Christine; Raoul would provide for her, give her things that she needed and wanted. Erik was a monster, and she wouldn't be able to look upon his face without fear.

Christine, now sitting on the edge of her bed, shook her head. "_We both knew why!_"

"_And yet I won't regret, from now until I die. The night I can't forget, beneath a moonless sky_."

Erik stood across from her, watching anxiously as he asked, "And now?"

A harsh laugh left Christine, and she looked up at him, tears beginning to drip down her cheeks, "How can you talk of now?" She dropped her head back into her hands, a sob escaping from her throat, "For us, there is no now."

When she looked back up, Erik was gone.


End file.
